


Knowing Me, Knowing You

by awarrington



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Academy Era, Destiny, First Time, M/M, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-26
Updated: 2012-04-26
Packaged: 2017-11-04 09:20:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/392242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awarrington/pseuds/awarrington
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirk and Spock meet at the StarFleet Academy Costume Ball and are immediately drawn to each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> From a prompt on LiveJournal for Halloween, which can be found at the end of the story.
> 
> Inspiration for the costume came from artwork by Gayle F from the cover of the K/S zine T’hy’la 9, published by Kathy Resch in 1990. Image used with kind permissions of the artist and zine editor.
> 
> Dance idea came from a conversation with verizonhorizon.
> 
>  
> 
> [](http://pics.livejournal.com/awarrington/pic/00025w74/)  
> 

Jim Kirk sat alone in his favorite restaurant, at his favorite table, waiting for his lunch to arrive.  He liked that position against one wall because it was away from the drafty door and the floor-to-ceiling window where he felt like he was in a goldfish bowl; instead being further inside but facing it, he could watch the world, unobserved, as it passed by, as well as other patrons.  Being close to noon, it was already half-filled and he knew from experience it would get busier.  
  
The eatery was in San Francisco’s Chinatown, but slightly away from the touristy part.  When he’d first come across the place, he noticed the majority of the customers were Asian, which signaled the food was likely to be both authentic and good.  He wasn’t disappointed and had returned many times since in his two and a bit years at the Academy, usually with his best friend, Bones.  
  
They generally liked to walk there, the journey from the campus taking around forty five minutes.  But today it had been longer due to an unseasonably thick, heavy fog enveloping the city, sitting heavy like a shroud, transporting it to another world.  Objects only meters away seemed to dissolve into the impenetrable, gray mass, rendering them completely invisible.  
  
Kirk caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and glanced towards the window where someone outside had paused in their travels, facing the road, perhaps to get their bearings in the thick pall.  Even with their back to him, Kirk could see he was male and dressed head to foot in black.  A slight turn of the head revealed the defining characteristics of a Vulcan, a pale pointed ear standing out in sharp contrast to his cap of shiny, blue-black hair.  He turned further to a profile view and then a little further to a three quarter view and it was at that point, at the first proper glimpse of the Vulcan’s handsome face, that Kirk’s breath caught in the back of his throat.  He picked up a menu in case he should look in and see Kirk staring, but he needn’t have worried as the Vulcan tilted his head to one side, as if deep in thought for a moment and, apparently coming to a decision, continued along the street.  
  
Kirk couldn’t remember ever having a reaction to someone like that before, like he’d been hit between the eyes.  The Vulcan had been hot, in fact positively gorgeous, he acknowledged.  It took several minutes to overcome the adrenaline spike and for his heart-rate to return to normal.  
  
He was distracted from his thoughts by the delivery of his main course and with his stomach growling in hunger, he attacked his meal with gusto.  When he’d finished, his check was brought to him with a fortune cookie and breaking it open, he read the words on the small piece of paper: _Fortune favors the brave._   He shook his head, his lips pressed into a thin line; his mother would likely disagree with that statement.  
  
Stepping out onto the sidewalk half an hour later, a shiver went down his spine.  The damp, cold air felt as though it were penetrating his very bones, his cadet uniform unequal to the job of keeping him warm.  Surely, he wondered, as each exhaled breath condensed into a billowing cloud, the temperature hadn’t dropped as the day progressed – he was certain it wasn’t this cold when he’d left the Presidio earlier.  Normally by the afternoon, the San Francisco sun was strong enough to burn off any fog that had crept stealthily into the bay in the early hours, but not today as he squinted to see farther than two meters down the street.  
  
He needed to find the costumier, his primary reason for having come to this part of town.  He recalled having passed one some time back while exploring the area, feeling certain it was right around the corner on Ross Alley; his memory was usually pretty sound.  
  
As he made his way down the street, he moved to avoid one of the ornate lamp posts that still lined the streets after three hundred years, its traditional Chinese lantern-shaped housing and the gold dragons entwined about the post below it, almost completely obscured in the blanket of gray.  Ahead, he could dimly see a turning and although he couldn’t make out the street sign, he was certain from its location it was the one he wanted.  
  
It was with some relief that he found the store a short walk from the corner.  The window was filled with wild and exotic costumes and as he looked them over, his eyes were drawn to a person standing inside.  Although the individual had his back to the window, Kirk recognized the Vulcan he’d seen earlier and his heart speeded up again.  An old man was folding a large swathe of what looked like blue faux-fur into a bag as the Vulcan, in profile view, donned a black cloak over what looked like a thick, knitted sweater, the black cloth reaching almost to the tops of his knee-high boots.  Once again Kirk was taken by the handsome face and the dashing figure he cut.  
  
With the Federation Headquarters sharing the same city as the StarFleet Academy, aliens were commonplace and he figured the Vulcan was likely diplomatic personnel attached to their embassy.  
  
The assistant was folding purple gloves and then purple boots into another bag and Kirk felt a degree of surprise at the highly colorful objects.  Costume parties abounded at that time of year; yet even so, he found himself unable to imagine someone from such a conservative and dignified species, wearing such outlandish attire.  The transaction was clearly over as the Vulcan picked up four bags – the rest of the costume apparently having already been packed.  As the dark stranger turned and moved toward the door, Kirk shifted his position so that a manikin mostly obscured him from the sight of internal occupants, allowing him to watch the Vulcan for the maximum time without fear of being seen.  The door opened with the tinkle of a bell, and he felt the Vulcan stride past him, the fog seemingly swirling around him until it swallowed him up.  
  
Inside, the warmth of the shop enveloped Kirk and for the first time, he noticed the assistant’s appearance.  Wearing a deep-red robe with broad sleeves, cinched in at the waist by a black cummerbund, Kirk thought he might be of Chinese origin, if his appearance and attire were anything to go by.  His wizened face was framed with white hair, a long, wispy moustache and a beard that cascaded from his chin – the rest of his jaw and cheeks entirely devoid of hair.  A twinkling pair of dark eyes observed him.  
  
“You looking for a costume?” he asked in a thick accent, a small smile forming.  
  
Kirk glanced around at the racks of clothing that lined three sides of the shop and shook his head.  “Yeah, but I’m not sure what I’m looking for.”  He could see he was going to need help – this was even worse than clothes shopping and that wasn’t high on his list of ways to spend a day off.  
  
“You have theme in mind?”  
  
“I dunno,” Kirk shrugged.  “Maybe horror, superhero or alien?”  
  
After being measured up, he spent the next half hour in a fitting room trying on and discarding a dozen outfits the assistant dutifully brought him.  He wasn’t that fussy with clothes generally, so he wasn’t sure why he was being so picky with the costume.  He wished Bones was with him for a second opinion, or just to say, ‘that one will do’, but his friend had already gone ahead and rented his.  He’d been forced to rent his early, as between his classes and shifts at the Medical Center, he didn’t have any days scheduled off to get one nearer the time.  Kirk smiled at the memory of how much he’d complained at having to pay an extra week’s rental on it.  
  
So here he was, on Halloween, looking for a decent costume to wear that night at the StarFleet Academy Costume Ball and realized from the mediocre selection he’d been offered, that the best costumes had likely already been rented out.  
  
He discarded the Frankenstein number that he decided was too obvious and would just clash with any number of other zombie-like ghouls likely to be present, if the last two costume balls were anything to go by.  Frustrated at the length of time this was taking, he considered the exotic costumes he’d seen in the window, and was reminded of the Vulcan and the colorful outfit he had chosen.  “Do you have anything more on the unusual side?” he asked the assistant hopefully.  
  
“Ah,” the old man smiled widely as he nodded.  “You ask for horror, superhero or alien – I thought you looking for hum-drum.  I have perfect costume for you.”  
  
Ten minutes later, Kirk stared at the vision in the mirror at what he had quickly realized was a companion costume to the one the mysterious Vulcan had rented.  With such ornate costumes, he guessed the store must cater to the local theaters and perhaps even San Francisco’s opera and ballet companies, as it was likely both the one he was wearing and the Vulcan had rented were created for some special production – a costly one, given the quality and detail of the materials involved.  
  
The figure-hugging gold jumpsuit bedecked in iridescent gossamer scales was covered at his torso by a golden, jeweled breastplate designed to mimic a bare chest, that sloped down to a ‘v’ to cover the bulge at his groin.  About the waist, a sash held an ornate scabbard that housed a long, gold sword, the edges of which, he thankfully noted, were completely blunted.  A gold-colored cloak adorned his shoulders, attached to the armor with red, cabochon-shaped clasps, with green gauntlets that reached his biceps and thigh-high matching green boots, completing the outfit.  
  
“It traditional Vulcan costume,” the old man said with a smile, breaking Kirk’s contemplative silence.  
  
Kirk felt his eyes almost boggling.  “No way, man!”  
  
The smile broadened.  “Not traditional now, traditional before reform.”  
  
He had a hard time imagining Vulcans strutting around in such bright clothing but it made some sense.  He knew from his history of Federation member planets that Vulcan had been a pretty wild place before the time of their revered philosopher, Surak, although his imagination had never run to it having been _this_ wild.  
  
Kirk looked at himself again in the mirror.  It _was_ an amazing costume, fitting flawlessly, and was absolutely perfect for his coloring.  There was something about it that drew him to it.  It was as if the costume somehow held the power to bestow upon him a sense of invincibility, as though in wearing it, he took on the mantle of the fierce, brave warriors that had ruled and fought for the tribes in Vulcan’s distant past.  
  
Kirk shook his head at his fanciful thoughts, a sense of pragmatism asserting itself.  This was just _too_ outlandish.  While he enjoyed drawing attention to himself, this would be so over-the-top.    
  
“I like it, but…”  
  
The old man nodded in apparent understanding.  “It take great courage to wear this.”  
  
Kirk looked at the heap of discarded costumes on the floor and then back at his other-worldly reflection.  
  
 _Fortune favors the brave.  
_  
“How much for this one?” he found himself asking, a part of him incredulous that he was seriously considering it.  
  
“Thirty credits, same as others.”  
  
Kirk stared in disbelief and that clinched it for him.  He’d truly expected something as unique, beautiful and ornate to be at least three times the price.  
  
“Seriously?”  
  
The old man smiled enigmatically and glanced at Kirk’s reflection with a satisfied nod.  “It made for you, fit you well.”  
  
Fuck, he thought.  Bones was going to laugh at him but… He looked again in the mirror at the vision.  But yeah, it’d be worth it.  
  
Kirk left with four bags and made his way back up to Jackson.  As he turned and began to walk down the long, busy road, he realized as he passed where he’d had lunch, that the fog was finally beginning to lift.  Good, because he could now easily hail a cab.  
  
-=-=-  
  
McCoy’s reaction went according to prediction, moving from initial disbelief to great hilarity in quick succession.  Kirk stood trying to keep a dignified posture, but finally broke out into a broad grin.  
  
“I knew you liked being center of attention, but really Jim, this takes the fucking biscuit!”  
  
“Fuck off, asshole.”  
  
McCoy grinned.  
  
Kirk slung an arm about his friend’s shoulder.  “At least…” he gestured with his free hand at McCoy’s costume, “…I won’t be blending in with a hundred other Draculas.”  
  
“That’s an understatement, if ever there was one.  And don’t knock this gear.  Blending in is my style.  Are you seriously going to wear that?”  
  
“Don’t have much choice at this point, do I?” Kirk pointed out, since the ball was due to begin in under an hour.  
  
“Your hair…” McCoy said turning his head to inspect the blond locks cascading over his shoulders.  
  
“Extensions.”  Kirk moved away from McCoy and began to attach the sword.  “The guy in the store suggested either that or a wig – gave me the name of a place downtown.  I figured a wig would be too hot, so I commed Janice Rand and she did them for me.”  
  
“Well, I guess if you’re going to do something, you may as well do it properly.”  
  
“Oh, it gets better,” Kirk grinned, waggling his eyebrows.  He pulled at his cloak.  “There’s a concealed pocket here – so I’ve stowed away a few bits for when I get lucky tonight.”  With that he pulled out a bottle of lube, looking very pleased with himself.  “In case it’s a guy,” he needlessly explained.  
  
McCoy shook his head.  “You’re something fucking else, kid.”  
  
Kirk took that as the highest accolade his friend could give and feeling inordinately pleased, kissed him on the cheek.  
  
“Get off me you oversexed fuck,” McCoy said gruffly, shoving him away and making a great show of wiping his face of non-existent spittle.  
  
Fifteen minutes later, Kirk got inkling of the kind of reaction his costume was going to provoke as he strode beside his friend across the campus to the conference centre, whistles and catcalls dogging their every step.  
  
“Bones, if you don’t stop rolling your eyes, you’re gonna strain them,” he grinned.  
  
The furore that surrounded Kirk’s arrival surpassed even his own expectations, but not for the reasons he’d anticipated, although compliments and lewd suggestions abounded in equal numbers from his classmates, which he happily soaked up.  
  
“Oh my god, you’ve got the same get-up as Professor Spock,” exclaimed someone in the small crowd surrounding him.  “Only his is green and purple.”  
  
Spock – a Vulcan name, and green and purple, the color scheme of the handsome stranger’s costume.  Could it be…? Kirk wondered, his heart racing.  He started to look around, over the sea of heads, in the hope of seeing him.  
  
“Yeah, where is Professor Spock?” Jones from his engineering class wondered aloud, waving his pirate hook in the air vaguely.  “We should get you two together.”  He then lifted his black eye-patch and joined Kirk in looking about the room.  But before Jones could say any more on the matter, the sea of costumed party-goers seemed to magically part, and at the other end of the divide the Vulcan, resplendent in his figure-hugging costume, stood tall and proud, feet slightly apart.  
  
For a second and eternity, the world narrowed down to just the two of them, as if nothing else existed.  While Kirk knew he looked pretty damn hot in his costume, the Vulcan’s looked awesome on him.  He wondered how he’d managed to miss ever seeing him around campus, because there’s no way he’d forget a face like that.  His mouth went dry as he felt a flush crawl up his face at the sight of the absolutely gorgeous being, his cock twitching in interest.  Fuck, he thought.  The last thing he needed in that outfit was a hard-on.    
  
The awful thought brought him back and the world intruded once again.  He became vaguely aware that Uhura was standing beside Professor Spock, dressed in what looked like nineteenth century clothes, staring at him incredulously.  Although they shared two classes a week, they never spoke, as her level of animosity towards him hadn’t changed since that fateful night in a Riverside bar a little over two years earlier.  Or rather, he would sometimes make lewd comments to her if he ever got close enough, but she made a point of completely ignoring him.  Seeing her standing so close to the Vulcan, he wondered what their relationship was.  
  
The professor walked towards him, each step graceful and poised, clearly eyeing him up and down until they stood face to face.  “I had thought my costume would be unique this evening.  I see I was in error.”  The voice was quiet and even, no sign of accusation or annoyance coloring it.  
  
“Me too,” Kirk responded – it had honestly not occurred to him that the Vulcan might be in StarFleet.  He trailed off into an awkward silence as dark, unfathomable eyes held his before glancing around them where the crowd appeared to be hanging onto their every word.  
  
It was as if his action of noticing them galvanized the people around them, because all of a sudden, the group dispersed.  
  
“I need a drink.”  The words were spoken in a familiar drawl, causing Kirk to turn to the friend he’d momentarily forgotten in the shock of finding himself face to face with the Vulcan.  Before he could respond, McCoy added, “Catch you later, Jim,” and wandered off into the crowd.  
  
Now it was just the two of them and he fought with his body to relax, to breathe more slowly and deeply.  
  
“I am Spock.”  
  
“Jim Kirk,” he responded, waiting for the inevitable comment about his father.  
  
“Indeed,” Spock said, raising an eyebrow but, to Kirk’s relief, saying no more.  He found himself pinned by a gaze that traveled down his body and back up, leaving him feeling as if he was being undressed by the alluring eyes.  “While you are missing certain obvious physical characteristics of my species, the costume nevertheless works well on you.”  
  
“Yeah, well you look pretty good too.”  As soon as the lame words were out of his mouth, Kirk wished he could take them back.  Fuck, where did his brain go? he wondered.  His body had been taken over by hormones.  
  
“This was not my first choice,” Spock confessed.  “I am not normally given to making a spectacle of myself.”  
  
Kirk could believe that – all the Vulcans he’d previously met had come across as very reserved and austere.  Spock’s jumpsuit was as figure-hugging as his own, its pale green iridescent scales catching the lights of the ballroom and blending with the natural hue of his skin.  The purple thigh-length boots and gauntlets worked well with the outfit and the dark blue faux-fur cloak matched the blue-black color of the luxuriant hair extensions Spock had also clearly been advised to get.  Overall, he decided, it was like looking at sex on legs.  
  
Of one thing Kirk was absolutely certain; much as he thought the costume was incredibly hot on Spock, he wanted nothing more than to get him out of it and up close, mano e mano.  And, he figured, if Spock had been willing to wear something that Vulcans would likely consider outrageous, and given the looks he’d already gotten, then maybe Spock wasn’t too uptight and he might be in with a chance.  All he had to do was keep the Vulcan interested and at his side the whole evening.  He was a genius, he could do that.  
  
However, it proved not to be as easy as he thought, as Spock seemed to be in demand.  They hadn’t gotten much beyond Spock telling him what his areas of expertise were and what he taught in, and him telling Spock a little about his command course and how he’d gone about condensing four years into three, when Spock was pulled away for the first time.  To his annoyance, it was by Uhura who said she wanted to speak to him privately.  Kirk was in no doubt what, or rather who, the subject of that conversation would be, judging by the look she’d given him.  He sighed.  
  
Half an hour later, he felt a sense of relief that Spock returned, so whatever Uhura had said, it hadn’t put the Vulcan off completely.  Well, in case she’d put paid to his flirty charm working on the Vulcan, Kirk figured he could masturbate him mentally instead.  He might not be able to speak fluent geek, but he could certainly hold his own.  
  
The second time Spock was pulled away, they were in the midst of having what Kirk was finding an enjoyable and entertaining discussion on starship designs.  A man approached them, dressed in what looked like some kind of national costume and who Kirk recognized as the head of the Computer Sciences faculty.  Kirk wanted to stab him in the eye.  
  
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything interesting, Spock,” the professor said, looking at Kirk in a way that suggested nothing he could say could be of any import – and while he was used to people taking one glance at his looks and assuming there was little more than a vacuum between his ears, it was still annoying.  He supposed wearing the costume he now had on, probably didn’t help.  “I’d like to introduce you to someone,”  the professor explained, and took Spock’s elbow to guide him away.  The action drew a flash from Spock of something – irritation? – leveled at his colleague as he subtly withdrew from the touch.  
  
“Cadet Kirk and I were—”  
  
“It’s okay Spock,” Kirk interrupted, not wanting to be the cause of any problems between the Vulcan and his Academy boss.  “I’ll catch you in a bit.”  
  
Spock looked at him a moment, consideringly, and Kirk shrugged with a small wink and a smile.  “Very well,” he agreed and followed the professor.  
  
He watched Spock walk away, sorry that the cloak hid what he suspected was a very nice ass.  
  
“You’re not seriously trying to get into his tight pants, are you?” came a familiar voice beside him.  
  
Kirk turned to McCoy with a grin.  “And if I was?” he asked challengingly, moving toward the buffet tables, knowing his friend would follow.  
  
“I’d say you got more chance of convincing me to suck your dick than you do, him.”  
  
Kirk smiled.  Now that was something he’d recently been contemplating with Bones – becoming friends _with benefits_.  But, he figured, they’d both need to be roaring drunk before he broached the subject, or maybe he should just get onto his knees and show Bones how it was done.  Picking up a cocktail sausage, he bit into it after performing a slightly obscene maneuver on it with his lips and tongue.  “I didn’t realize you’d be that easy, Bones.”  His smiled widened.    
  
“I’m not,” McCoy scowled.  “And neither is he,” he added gesturing in the direction the Vulcan had been taken.  
  
From the sparking undercurrent that had been flowing like electricity between Spock and him during their discussion, Kirk was already feeling quite confident in his chances of successfully getting the Vulcan between the sheets for the night.  He smiled enigmatically.  “Whatever.  How’re you doing – pulled anyone yet in your sexy tux and fangs?”  
  
McCoy dug into his pocket and pulled out some false teeth.  “Took them out after they fell into my bourbon for the third time.  And no, I’m not trying to get laid.”  
  
The two men chose a selection of delicacies from the spread and chatted as they ate.  All the while, Kirk was acutely aware of where Spock stood with a group of people.  He could see the Vulcan drawing admiring looks from both males and females in his vicinity and he totally understood why.  In that costume he looked wild and magnificent, like a character who’d just stepped out of a fantasy novel, and he couldn’t help but be drawn to the sight of such a beautiful vision.  Almost always, he found himself the recipient of a mutually hungry gaze.  
  
“You’re making eyes at him,” McCoy accused.  “It won’t work, Jim.  He’s _Vulcan_ for god’s sake.  They’re immune to that kind of thing.”  
  
Kirk shrugged, wondering at how Bones could miss the almost sultry looks he was getting from Spock.  Maybe he could see it because he was looking for it.  Maybe everyone else was blind to it.  
  
“Jim.”  The voice behind him said his name a fraction of a second after Kirk knew the Vulcan was near.  He turned and grinned at Spock.  
  
“Can I introduce you to my friend, Dr. Leonard McCoy.  Bones, this is Professor Spock.”  
  
“Doctor,” Spock nodded in acknowledgement.  
  
“Professor,” Bones mumbled back.    
  
Spock turned back to Kirk.  “I had hoped we might continue our discussion on starship design.”  
  
Kirk didn’t need to see McCoy to know the expression that likely adorned his face at the thought of listening in on that topic.  “Excuse me,” the doctor said, then called out “Christine!” as he strode away.  
  
Kirk spotted one of the staff McCoy worked with at the medical center, dressed in a skimpy costume that looked like something out of the Arabian Nights, waving at him.  
  
“Interesting discussion?” Kirk asked, gesturing with a movement of his head towards where Spock had been standing.  
  
“It was satisfactory.”  
  
Kirk smiled, and then grinned when he saw a flicker of amusement play about Spock’s lips.  
  
Over the course of the next two hours, each time others attempted to join in their discussion, or one or other of them was called away, they would find themselves alone together immediately after they had disengaged themselves from the distraction.  Uhura had taken Spock away twice more and on both occasions, he’d quickly returned to his side.  He found it incredibly flattering to be the sole recipient of Spock’s interest and, he knew, it was annoying the hell out of Uhura, which just made it even sweeter.    
  
The music that had been playing all evening was eclectic, to say the least, catering to so many different cultures.  When a classical piece came on that Kirk recognized, he commented on it.  “When I was at high school, I learned a Vulcan dance to this piece.”  
  
Spock’s surprise was evident.  “I was unaware such subjects were taught in Terran schools.”  
  
“We learned it as part of Federation cultural and social studies.  I think our school was pretty unusual – our teacher had been a dancer at one time and figured we’d find learning intergalactic cultures more interesting by learning about it through dance.  And she was right.  Every step and body movement in some dances holds cultural significance and history.”  
  
“Would you care to demonstrate with me?” Spock asked suddenly.  
  
Kirk’s heart-rate increased as a surge of adrenaline shot through him.  “I’m not sure if I can remember all the steps,” he answered hesitantly.  
  
“I have confidence you will,” Spock responded.  “Come.”  
  
That was how he and Spock literally brought the 2257 Academy Costume Ball to a standstill.  
  
Spock was right, he did remember the dance.  While the movements were stiff and highly stylized, the body held upright, much like traditional Irish dancing, with the arms kept at the sides, the steps themselves were complex and elaborate, more akin to the dances typical of eighteenth century Europe.  The one distinction was that although they danced together, they never touched, instead moving in intricate steps about one another.  Kirk found by relaxing into it, allowing muscle memory to take over, by being constantly aware of Spock’s position relative to his own at any given time, and holding eye contact whenever possible, he could ensure his movements were completely synchronized with the Vulcan’s.  
  
They had begun in the crowd, but quickly people stopped to watch, and in their unusual and complementary costumes, they made a dashing and contrasting sight.  When the music came to an end, it was to applause and it was as if a spell had been broken, because Spock suddenly appeared very uncomfortable with such attention.  Yet, Kirk realized, there was nothing in his face that showed it – perhaps it was a certain tension about his body, but he just knew it.  
  
“Can I get you a drink, Spock?”  With a curt nod in acknowledgement, he headed towards the bar, the Vulcan following in his wake.  
  
Kirk sipped on a _tdsiki_ , a semi-alcoholic Andorian drink, while Spock favored a simple fruit juice.  
  
“You dance well, Jim,” Spock remarked as they stood with their backs to the wall, watching the nearby dance floor.  
  
Kirk turned to the Vulcan.  “Better than I ever was at school.  It’s weird, it was like I knew all the steps, but I don’t remember learning anything that complex.”  
  
Spock turned his eyes away from the dancing to look at him, eyebrow raised.  “It is known that the unconscious memory is far greater than conscious memory in most Humans.  It is likely that seeing my steps prompted your unconscious to guide you correctly.”  
  
Kirk shook his head, but didn’t speak as he had no counter-argument.  He couldn’t explain it but his companion’s suggestion just didn’t ring true.  Instead, he found himself drawn once again to Spock’s eyes.  It was as if they expressed all the emotion the Vulcan did not allow himself to feel.  
  
“I…” Spock began and trailed off and swallowed sharply.  “Jim, would you care to accompany me to my apartment?  I am able to offer you tea, but I have no alcoholic beverages.”  
  
“Yes,” Kirk smiled happily.  It was barely ten o’clock, but he was more than ready to leave.  Spock could have offered him Rigellian mud slime to drink and the answer would have been no different.  “Do you want to go now?”  
  
“If that is acceptable.”  
  
Kirk’s smile broadened as he looked for a surface to put down his near empty glass.  As he did so, he noticed Bones and Chris Chapel looking like they were having a good time together.


	2. Chapter 2

Spock’s apartment, it turned out, was just off campus on a hill to the south of the Academy. They walked in silence and Kirk had to resist the urge to take Spock’s gloved hand in his own. Although he felt as certain as it was possible to be with such an inscrutable species that Spock’s intention towards him was no different to his own, he’d felt that such a gesture might not be welcomed, especially in public.

They’d spent most of the evening having mentally stimulating discussions and while Kirk had enjoyed them, he was ready for more trivial subjects of interest. “I’m surprised, as a Vulcan, you were willing to wear a costume like that.” He’d been curious about it all evening.

“I had tried several others but found none satisfactory. When the assistant brought me this, I felt compelled to try it on, although I had no intention of renting it. However, once I had donned it, I found myself illogically drawn to it. I expressed my doubts to the assistant, who agreed with me, saying it would take great courage to wear it. I am uncertain why, but those words induced me to choose it. Also, I am not fully Vulcan. My mother is Human.”

That surprised Kirk – he hadn’t known any Vulcan-Human hybrids existed. “Are you saying by the standards of your people you’re a bit of a maverick?”

“I am saying no such thing.”

“So, it’s just coincidence you’re the only Vulcan – or even half-Vulcan – to join StarFleet.”

Kirk caught the quirk of the lips. “Very astute, Jim. That is because I am the first Vulcan – or half Vulcan – to have turned down a place at the Vulcan Science Academy in order to do so. However, I am uncertain that particular fact, and my choice of Halloween costume this evening, is in any way connected.”

Kirk thought Spock was sexy and hot. Now he was evincing signs of a sense of humor, which made him like him all the more.

“And you, Jim. What is the reason you chose such a costume?”

He wondered whether to say anything about having seen Spock at the store and decided that might sound a bit stalkerish. “I didn’t get it until today and the place I went to had run out of pretty much anything interesting, until the assistant showed me this one. It fit perfectly and was a good price, although I had my doubts, as even I thought it was a bit out there. He said the same thing to me about it taking courage – I wonder if that’s a line he uses a lot on men as a dare. Anyway, I decided to go for it, figuring I could handle the attention.” Especially from you, he thought.

“You were outside the store as I was leaving.” Spock said suddenly.

Kirk guessed it would have been hard to miss him in his cadet reds and it was easy for Spock to put two and two together. “Yeah, I thought I was going to have trouble finding the place in that pea-souper today.”

“Pea-souper? You refer to the fog?” At Kirk’s nod he continued, “I too had some difficulty locating the store.”

Spock turned off the sidewalk and along a short path towards a two-story building. A full moon was high in the sky, casting an eerie silvery glow over the landscape and the beautiful view to the west overlooking South Bay and the ocean beyond. While the fog had completely lifted, the air had remained cool and Kirk was glad of the faux-fur cloak, although the up-hill climb had generated some heat too.

Spock palmed a pad to open the front door which led into a hall with a flight of stairs to the right. As the door closed behind them, the Vulcan began to climb the stairs, Kirk right behind him, his heart beginning to hammer in a way that had nothing to do with the exertion of having just walked up a steep hill. It was from pure anticipation.

Spock paused at a door at the top which silently slid open at another command. Following the Vulcan in, he could see it led directly into a spacious living area with a small dining table and four chairs. Beyond it sat two plush couches facing each other across a low-level glass table, and beyond that, what looked like an authentic fire place.

At the touch of a button, lights came on at a low setting and another caused flames to leap up in the hearth. Spock turned to him.

“Jim, I wish to be honest with you—”

Kirk could clearly see the naked want in the Vulcan’s eyes, knew it for what it was – a mirror of his own desire. He cut the words off with a press of his mouth to the lips he’d been wanting to kiss all evening. Spock’s response was tentative at first, then as he grew more audacious, they moved closer and their breastplates met with a resounding clang.

Kirk pulled back with a contrite look to see dark eyes almost devouring him. “I wonder if your ancestors had the same problem?” he asked with a smile, releasing the cloak from its clasps and allowing it to slide to the floor.

“Allow me,” Spock said quietly, removing his long gloves and turning him around. There were a few movements at his back and, removing his own gloves, he worked on releasing the sash catch, causing his scabbard to drop to the floor with a clatter. He felt the breastplate loosen and then it was removed. When he turned back, Spock’s cloak was already on the floor and the Vulcan turned so that Kirk could help with the fasteners. He found the clasps frustrating, taking longer than they should have because his hands were trembling from the adrenaline pumping into his system. 

The armor finally gone, he paused a moment to admire Spock’s physique in the figure-hugging jumpsuit. He was all lean contours of bone and sinew, lithe and powerful. No longer hidden, the bulge at Spock’s groin was impressive and even as he watched, he saw it growing. He glanced up at the Vulcan to find him fixated on the same part of his own anatomy. He knew he was fully hard and the costumes left nothing to the imagination. When Spock’s tongue momentarily appeared and licked his lip, a gesture that spoke of the relinquishing of his control, Kirk groaned and pulled the Vulcan into another kiss.

This time it was bolder, mouths opening, tongues seeking, dueling, devouring. He could taste Spock’s fruit juice from earlier, and another more alien flavor that he suspected was uniquely Spock.

There was something qualitatively different for Kirk about this encounter – he knew that, even though they’d done no more than kiss. He’d wanted Spock from the very first glimpse of him – although he’d felt that with partners before; but this felt as though it was something special, different. He was certain it wasn’t just because he’d made a ‘conquest’ of a Vulcan, a species not known for their promiscuity, because the encounter didn’t feel like any defeat was involved, he hadn’t had to fight or even work hard to get Spock to this place. It had happened naturally, a mutual decision, because they just ‘clicked’, as if they fit together like two halves of a puzzle. It was clear by Spock’s behavior at the party – they were equally reluctant to leave each other’s side – that something was going on for him too, despite Uhura’s best efforts to separate them – she knew his reputation and was probably trying to ‘protect’ her friend.

There was a hunger in their kissing and with their unequal strength, Kirk was having to work hard against the force that was Spock. A simple solution, he swung Spock around and shoved him against the door. Bracing his arms on either side of his head, he leaned into him. Spock’s eyes were filled with arousal, his mouth slightly open, the tip of his tongue, in an unconscious act, licking his upper lip as if attempting to capture the lingering taste of his would-be Human lover. Kirk kissed him passionately, taking possession of that just-glimpsed tongue, noting now they were pressed together, that the Vulcan was as hard as he was. He slid a leg between Spock’s and raised it, rocking back and forth on it, feeling answering thrusts.

Kirk broke the kiss, breathing heavily. "Like that, do you?"

The answer was Spock pulling him into another deep kiss, grabbing his ass and, holding him in position so he could push back harder. The hot hands felt as though they were branding him, as the Vulcan undulated his lower body against him, creating a delicious friction. The sensations seemed to spread to every nerve ending in his body, lighting him up. Their torsos were now in full contact and for the first time, Kirk could really appreciate the difference in body temperature, as he began to heat up.

They broke away gasping for air and Kirk moved to kiss the hinge of Spock’s jaw, then drew back and ran the fingertips of his right hand up to the point of his ear. "I’ve wanted to do that since the moment I first saw you."

He leaned forward and followed the trail his fingers had taken with his tongue, sweeping upward, feeling Spock shiver against him.

Time to lose some of their clothes, Kirk realized, before the costume stuck to him with his sweat. The diverting activity would also help take the edge off his arousal.

Kirk stepped away and pulled off first one boot, then the other, then began to unseal the jump-suit.

“Perhaps we might be more comfortable by the fire,” Spock suggested quietly.

Kirk bent down to his cloak and finding the hidden pocket, surreptitiously pulled out the small tube of lube he’d secreted there earlier. With anyone else, he would have felt a bit smug that he’d come so well prepared, but with Spock he felt a slight sense of embarrassment at what the Vulcan might perceive as his presumptuousness. The feeling was fleeting, however, as his sense of pragmatism won out. With the jumpsuit hanging off his waist, he walked over to where Spock was waiting for him on the large hearth-rug.

“Lights off,” Spock quietly commanded, and the room was suddenly transformed as the fire became the only light source, the shadows about them now constantly moving.

Kirk couldn’t take his eyes off Spock as he undressed, removing his jumpsuit and slowly revealing more of his body – broad shoulders, the muscled plains of his chest and abs, slim hips, corded thighs. Kirk stopped cataloguing, his eyes drawn to the pale, hard cock which had sprung free. Before he was even aware that he’d moved, he was on his knees, his hand wrapped about the root of the long shaft, taking it into his mouth as though he were a starving man being offered a feast. Spock gasped above him as he took in the head and began to explore, tonguing the slit, laving the sensitive underside and exploring the double ridge beneath the crown. Each inhalation provided him with the heady aroma of Spock’s arousal, a light musk he found intoxicating.

Spock’s hands in his hair tightened. “Jim…I…”

Kirk reluctantly pulled away and looked up. “You okay?”

Spock tilted his head to one side and Kirk could see amusement in the expression, though it had barely changed. “I believe a reclining position would be more efficacious at this time.”

Kirk grinned. “Legs a bit wobbly?”

“I would not have stated it in quite those terms, but essentially correct.”

As Spock got himself comfortable, Kirk peeled off the jumpsuit which, in his impatience to taste Spock, hadn’t gotten further than his waist, aware of the Vulcan watching his every move. He wondered if Spock had had previous male lovers, or if he was the first. There hadn’t been any hesitancy that he could discern, but then again, Vulcans were probably the most inscrutable species in the Federation. He didn’t want to outright ask, so decided for the time-being just to play it by ear.

As he lay down beside Spock, he put the lube down where he could find it later, pleased to find the rug was soft and springy, the nearby fire suffusing him with a pleasant warmth. A moment later, he found himself covered in an enthusiastic Vulcan. His slid his hands down the length of the muscled back to cup two firm buttocks, as tight and as pert he’d fantasized all evening.

Spock bent to kiss him, the caress of his lips hinting of need. The hot tongue flicked out and probed the seam of Kirk’s lips and he groaned, but the Vulcan didn't take advantage of his open mouth to ravage it. Instead, he drew back and their eyes held in silent knowing.

Kirk felt himself shiver as Spock reached back and pulled gently on his hands, twining their fingers together, all the while lazily undulating his hips, their cocks pressed together, teasing. Spock extended their arms above their heads, holding Kirk’s hands prisoner as he bent to kiss him, sucking on his tongue in rhythm with his writhing hips. As Kirk arched into the delicious touch, Spock lifted his head and began to gently nip and suck at the side of his throat, the sensations distracting him to such an extent that when his hands were released, he just kept them where they’d been placed.

By the time he realized his hands were no longer held, Spock had gone on to explore other horizons. He was running the fingernails of one hand over his ribs to his nipples, while the other palmed his flank, the Vulcan’s tongue tracing his collarbone.

Kirk worked a hand between them and found one of Spock’s nipples, discovering it was already an erect nub, and when he stroked his fingertips across it, the Vulcan gasped and shuddered, biting down on his shoulder.

Kirk knew he was getting close and any strong sensation would likely tip him over the edge. But he wanted more from this first time together.

“Spock,” he whispered into the silence, “I want you to fuck me.”

Spock lifted his head and held Kirk’s gaze as though looking at him would help him decide whether or not he was willing to take that step. Seeing Spock look at him like that just aroused him further, the look of desire clearly written on the beautiful face.

“Please. I want you, I want to feel you inside me. I want to surrender myself to you.”

Unsure what the answer was, he suddenly found himself being kissed as though there were no tomorrow, Spock’s tongue plundering his mouth and taking possession, as he drove his hips in hard thrusts against Kirk. As abruptly as it had begun, Spock stopped and licked languidly up his neck to his ear.

“We will require some form of lubrication. I—”

“I’ve got some,” Kirk interrupted and moved his hand around the rug trying to locate the abandoned tube.

Spock pulled back to meet his eyes, an eyebrow raised. “Indeed?”

Kirk felt himself flush. “It’s not something I carry around with me all the time. But parties are usually a good place to find a willing partner, so it’s best to be prepared.” He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to justify himself and because of his unaccustomed embarrassment, it took him longer than it should have to recognize the amusement on Spock’s face.

“Jim, no vindication is necessary. I am gratified you are so well prepared, as I am uncertain I have anything that would have been suitable.”

Kirk felt relief wash over him, not wanting Spock to think he was one in a long line of anonymous sexual encounters – he was already taking this further than he ever had done with another man.

They kissed briefly, and then Spock began to kiss, lick and nip his way down Kirk’s body, pausing to suck sensitive nipples erect and eliciting quiet moans of delight. By the time the Vulcan had got to his naval, Kirk’s body was on fire.

“Don’t go near my cock or I’ll go off like a rocket,” he warned. Evidently notice was taken as the busy mouth moved out to his hips for one kiss. Spock then moved to a kneeling position, nudging Kirk’s legs apart, and taking his ankles, gently pushed them up and back.

It was almost all over when Spock’s tongue touched his ass. As if sensing this, a hot hand clamped the base of his cock, squeezing firmly.

“Not yet,” Spock said quietly and then bent back to his task, alternating between laving and thrusting, bathing the sensitive area and playing with the tight knot of muscle until Kirk was quivering with need.

Without letting go of his cock, Spock sat up. “I will require your assistance.”

With one hand still clamped around the base of his cock, Spock was unable to open the tube, so Kirk did the honors, squeezing some gel onto the slender fingers. A moment later, he felt one slide into him. When a second joined the first, it burned a little at first but he focused on relaxing and the sensation became more pleasurable. The third finger hurt and he was unable to stop himself tensing. Spock quickly withdrew.

“Jim, have you done this before?”

“I’ve not been fucked before, no. But I want this. Please, don’t stop.” He tried not to inject an air of desperation in his voice, but he wanted this so much. He didn’t really know why, just that this felt right to him, that this was the right step to take.

“I do not want to stop, Jim – I am uncertain that I am able, even were I to wish it.” With that admission, he recommenced the preparation, going more slowly and gently. The discomfort naturally took the edge off Kirk’s arousal.

When Spock was done, Kirk sat up and squeezing more gel onto his fingers, wrapped them around Spock’s rigid shaft and spread the slickness from bottom to top, each pass over the double ridges producing a gasp.

Lying back down, Kirk pulled his knees up and breathing deeply, he relaxed his body. As Spock started to push into him, he bared down, opening himself up to the Vulcan.

"More, Spock, give me all of you."

With his arms braced on either side of Kirk, Spock complied, pushing until he could go no further. Kirk felt no pain, just the feeling of being filled, of connecting as physically deeply as it was possible for two men to be. He bit his lip and tried to prevent himself from shaking with want.

“Jim.”

Kirk opened his eyes, unaware he’d closed them and, snared by the intensity of the dark gaze, found he could neither shut his eyes again nor look away. He surged up and, wrapping his arms around Spock, pulled him down and took his mouth in a kiss that was hot and wet and hungry.

When Spock pulled back and then thrust all the way in, Kirk was unable to contain the cry that was torn from his throat. His head fell back onto the soft rug and he arched up, trying to take Spock even deeper. Each thrust claimed him, Spock’s hips moving in a steady rhythm. With his ankles locked behind the Vulcan’s back, and his cock hard against his abdomen where he leaked evidence of his desire, Spock thrust into him again and again, driving him towards the brink of orgasm. 

The sensations were indescribable, perfect. Even as he wondered why he’d never let anyone penetrate him before, he knew that how he was feeling now went far beyond the pure physical, and that any prior attempts would have paled by comparison to the experience he was now being gifted.

Spock took Kirk’s mouth, swallowing his moans, then gave them back to him as he began the climb to his own climax.

"Yes!" Kirk hissed when hot fingers wrapped around his cock, a thumb pressing firmly on the slit. With a shiver of heightened anticipation, he clamped down internal muscles when Spock’s movements became more erratic. Kirk tightened the embrace as Spock stilled, gasped his name and came. It was enough to push Kirk over the edge and in so doing, transported him to another world.

For a moment and a lifetime, he was a Vulcan warrior, shieldmate and t’hy’la to the one he recognized as Spock. They had been making love and in their shared orgasm, Spock bonded them together in his first Pon Farr, entwining their katras together for eternity.

Kirk came to, unsure if he’d fully passed out or not, to find Spock collapsed above him, his labored gasps warm and damp against his throat.

“Spock?” he asked uncertainly, wondering if he’d just hallucinated or whether Spock had somehow telepathically projected some image into his head.

Spock pushed himself up and after carefully extricating himself, sat beside him, his back to the fire. Kirk shakily sat up, feeling far more enervated than he normally would, as if his limbs were made of lead.

“I saw something – us on Vulcan. Did you do that?”

Spock reached out and took his hand, entwining their fingers. “I am uncertain what we experienced,” he said hesitantly. Kirk could only see Spock in silhouette and, needing to see his face, commanded the lights to twenty five percent.

Now that he could see Spock, he felt more comfortable. “Did you see what I did?”

“I saw two Vulcans, mating and bonding.”

“It was us. I felt it was you and me in another time, but I was Vulcan.” He shook his head. “What could have caused us to see it?”   
Spock’s face showed nothing of what he was thinking or feeling. “There is one possibility. We call the inner energy, the essence of the Vulcan mind, the katra. When the body dies, the katra lives on and many are stored in the Hall of Ancient Thought in Mount Seleya. When two Vulcans bond, their katras combine, it is said, forever.”

It sounded like Spock, in his very rational way, was describing what the people of Earth called the soul. He wasn’t sure he even believed in such a notion, yet if a species as logical as the Vulcans could believe such a thing – and he knew they’d not likely believe it unless they had irrefutable evidence of its existence – he was willing to go along with it.   
“But once someone dies, it’s not like their katra enters another body after it’s stored, right?”

“I am uncertain if there have been documented cases of such.”

Kirk stared at him. Surely he wasn’t serious. “What are you saying? That what we saw in that vision might really have been us in another time? Like us here, now, is a reincarnation?”

“I do not know. Neither can I explain much of what has happened between us today. Since the moment I saw you this evening, I knew you. Initially I believed it was because I had seen you on campus. However the sense of recognition went deeper, and as we spent time together, I knew that I knew you. I also knew that I desired you with a strength that went against all logic and I was aware at a level I should not have been, that you desired me equally.”

“That last part’s easy to explain – you’re a telepath, and besides, I don’t think I was doing a particularly great job of hiding it.”

Spock stared at their entwined fingers and squeezed gently. “Since our attire included gloves, not even our hands were able to come into accidental contact.”

Kirk thought back over his experiences with Spock. From the moment he clapped eyes on him, he was drawn to him and, he too, had experienced a sense of recognition and rightness.

“The first time I saw you, I was having lunch in a restaurant on Jackson. You stopped right outside and I couldn’t keep my eyes off you.”

“I recall immediately prior to turning onto the street where the costumier was, pausing when I heard my voice called. I had been applying the majority of my concentration on ensuring I did not get lost in the fog, so it took me a moment to realize that my name had not been spoken aloud. I waited on the street in case my name would be repeated. When it wasn’t, I continued my journey.”

Kirk’s head was spinning, wondering what it all meant – the vision had seemed so real, but reincarnation? That was a big leap – bigger than he was comfortable making. He was all up for having a good time and some pretty mind-blowing sex with Spock, but somehow he was getting a sense that something bigger was going on, as if they were destined to meet. The thought was a little overwhelming and one he really didn’t want to give credence to.

“Jim, there is no need to concern yourself over this – it is an unnecessary expenditure of energy.” Kirk looked up startled and then realized they were holding hands and Spock could probably sense his concern. “Let us take each day as it comes,” Spock added, and with those words, leaned forward and kissed Kirk gently and cherishingly.

In those words, Kirk felt a huge weight had been taken off him as though he’d been swimming underwater with bricks in his pockets and he couldn’t make the surface to breathe. “Okay,” he agreed with a smile, cupping Spock’s jaw and stroking the soft lips with his thumb. “Each day as it comes. I should probably go and leave you to it.” He didn’t want to, but he didn’t want to crowd Spock.

“It would be my preference that you stayed. However I do not wish you to feel in any way coerced.”

Kirk breathed a gentle sigh of relief. “No, no coercion – I’d like to stay over.”

They each used the shower, giving the other a little space and privacy, before lying side by side in Spock’s generously proportioned bed. Kirk pushed himself up onto his elbow, an effort as his muscles felt as if they’d turned to lead and, leaning over Spock, kissed him tenderly. Two minutes later, their fingers intertwined, his head sunk deep into a downy pillow, he was fast asleep.

-=-=-

When Kirk awoke the following morning with pale sunlight streaming through the unfamiliar window he was facing, he felt a sense of disorientation. It took a moment for him to connect where he was to the owner of the warm body spooned behind him and the arm over his hip. Half asleep, he drifted in utter contentment and peace.

It lasted two minutes, until his cock registered there was a warm, and probably willing, body pressed against him. As if on cue, the arm that had casually rested across him began to move, caressing his abdomen and moving lower, as he simultaneously felt warm kisses pressed to the back of his neck.

It took some wriggling but he managed to turn to face Spock and the sight of the handsome face and desire-filled eyes took his breath away. With his left hand, he traced each feature, his soft touches causing Spock’s lids to flutter closed. The lips were too much of a temptation and he leaned in to capture them, which quickly ignited a fire that took hold of his body.

He was on Spock, thrusting hard against his abdomen, feeling answering thrusts as their cocks kissed between them.

“I want to fuck you, Spock,” he growled into the Vulcan’s ear.

“Yes Jim. Fuck me. Now.”

The vulgar words on prim Vulcan lips acted like an incendiary device, and he devoured Spock’s mouth. He felt something being pushed into his hand – the lube. Spock must have brought it with them to the bedroom.

Kirk pushed himself to a kneeling position between Spock’s legs and paused a moment to take in the beautiful sight laid out before him. The gel on his hand felt cool, but the sensation was immediately overtaken when he pushed his first finger into the searing heat of Spock’s body.

“Fuck, you’re hot.” He shook his head and grinned. “And I mean that in every sense.”

A second finger was pushed in and this time he moved them around. I wonder, he thought to himself, if Spock’s anatomy is… Spock bucked and gasped. Yes, he smirked to himself, in that he’s like a Human. He hit it again, just to elicit the reaction. Another two minutes and the preparation was complete.

Sliding his cock into Spock’s ass, he decided, was the most unbelievable feeling. Hotter than he’d ever experienced, snug, the rippling of his inner muscles caressed his entire length.

Kirk began to plunge into Spock and found him arching in wild response to meet each thrust. He wound his fingers through Spock’s hair, tipped his head to the side and ran his teeth over the tendon in his neck.

He moved to press his lips against the Vulcan’s ear. "Shall I mark you, Spock? Mark you as mine?" he whispered.

Spock angled his head, silently offering him more of his neck; such a simple action, so profoundly erotic. Kirk accepted the gift and ran his teeth along it, nipping Spock’s throat lightly, tantalizingly.

"I'll mark you where no one can see it. Only I will know you’re mine." With those words, he moved down to the juncture of neck and shoulder and thrusting deep, bit down hard, almost breaking skin. Spock arched upwards with a hiss and scratched at his back. The pleasure/pain exploded through him as he continued to suck and lick, knowing it would leave a bruise that would be hidden by his uniform.

Continuing to thrust, he took one of Spock’s nipples between forefinger and thumb, toying with it, then dipped his head to lick and nip them.

Spock writhed and bucked beneath him as though driven wild with passion, the sounds he made, moans and gasps, spurring Kirk on. Beads of sweat caught on his eyebrows, clung to his cheekbones and pulling him up, Spock licked them away. Kirk barely had time to acknowledge the eroticism of the act before his mouth was taken in a searing kiss.

Spock started to shudder and gasp. Kirk chased the sound into his mouth with his tongue which Spock sucked on voraciously. The Vulcan’s legs tightened around him and he came, splashing their stomachs and chest with warm, wet streaks of semen.

Kirk tore his mouth off Spock’s, gasping for breath. "Not…not yet." He didn’t want it to end so quickly.

Spock had other ideas. "Yes, Jim. Come for me." The words combined with Spock’s inner muscles clamping down along the length of him, pushed him over the edge. Kirk held on tight to avoid being swept away, shudders shaking his body as he planted his seed in Spock as if to claim him. As toe-curling wave after wave washed over him, the world faded to sound and light. He gave in to the sensations, letting them flow over him, surround him, drown him in all he was feeling, hoping Spock would have some sensation of it through the touch of their skin.

When he regained full awareness, Spock was stroking the long muscles of his back, and finally he caught his breath.

Carefully pulling out of Spock he lay cradled in the strong arms. There had been no visions this time, but Kirk could easily rate that as one of the most intense orgasms of his life. He might not want to think about kind of commitment this soon, but with mind-blowing sex like that with the most handsome being he’d ever laid eyes on, he was happy to stick around for the time-being.

Kirk’s eyes which had drifted shut suddenly snapped open as he pushed himself out of Spock’s arms with a frown. “Shit, did I hurt you?” he asked, looking down at the large green welt on Spock’s shoulder. “I can’t believe I did that. I’m sorry, I’ve never been a biter.” He’d felt almost compelled to do it, and when he considered it, neither had he ever felt possessive about a lover before.

Spock looked up at him with a hint of amusement in his eyes. “I can assure you, you did not hurt me. You marked me as yours – an action I found both pleasing and arousing.”

Kirk leaned down to press his lips to the flowering bruise and smiled at the thought of Spock standing in a lecture hall in front of dozens of cadets, knowing that just beneath his charcoal uniform there lurked his mark. It suddenly brought to mind Uhura.

“Spock, what’s Uhura to you?”

“She is a friend only,” he reassured. “No more than that.”

Good, he thought. Because he’s mine. The possessive thought no longer surprised him. With a contented sigh, he lay back down and felt strong arms surround him just as possessively.

-=-=-

They took a cab back to the theatrical costumiers on Ross Avenue and after stepping out, Kirk paused, noticing the exotic costumes of the day before had been replaced with manikins dressed in more pedestrian outfits. Inside the store was emptier, with far fewer costumes adorning the racks. They must have had a last-minute rush, Kirk thought.

“Can I help you?” a young Asian woman asked with no trace of any accent.

Kirk stepped up and put his bags on the counter. “We’re returning these.”

The woman looked into the bag and pulled out the jumpsuit. “I’m sorry, Sir, I think you have the wrong place. This isn’t one of ours.”

Kirk was so certain it was the right store, he didn’t hesitate to argue. “Sure they are, an old guy rented them to us yesterday.”

The woman shook her head. “You have the wrong store,” she repeated. “I’m the owner – I don’t know any ‘old guy’. I was here all day yesterday on my own and I’ve never had any costumes of this high quality before – we’re just a party outfitter. This looks like it might come from a theatrical costumier – there’s no place like that round here. Maybe downtown?”

Spock stepped forward. “Madam, while the fog yesterday was undoubtedly thick, I can assure you we are not in error as to the location of the establishment from which we rented these costumes.”

The woman gave him a puzzled look. “Fog? There wasn’t any fog yesterday – we don’t get it this late in the year. It was sunny all day.”

Damnit, Kirk thought, he could at least prove this woman wrong on the weather and, pulling out his comm., speed-dialed McCoy. 

“Yeah Jim?” a sleepy voice answered. If McCoy was still in bed at this hour, he must have had a good night.

He grinned. “Bones. Just humor me for a minute and answer a question. What was the weather like here yesterday?”

“You woke me up just to ask about yesterday’s goddamn weather? It was blue skies and sunny. There, happy now?”

“What, no fog at all?”

“Fog? No, why?”

“Nothing. Thanks Bones, I’ll catch you later.”

A minute later, they stood outside the store on the sidewalk. “Okay, this is getting weirder by the minute.”

“This is a most puzzling situation for which I find myself unable to provide an explanation.”

“We can’t have hallucinated it, because this stuff must have come from somewhere. I know I ate lunch at Hing’s Cantonese restaurant right round the corner before I dropped into the store.” He shrugged helplessly. “Look whoever it was we rented these costumes from have our details from our credit chips. They’ll contact us soon enough when we’re overdue. Can we go back to your place?”

“That would be my preference, also,” Spock agreed.

They walked back to up to the junction with Jackson and quickly hailed a cab. It had barely gone a hundred meters when Kirk shouted to stop when he saw the old man in the red robe, standing on the sidewalk waving to them. Yet a second later when he swiveled his head to get another look at him, he’d vanished. “Did you see him Spock?”

“Indeed, Jim, he waved at us. However, I cannot determine how he could have disappeared as there are no visible places in which he might conceal himself in so brief a time.”

Kirk shook his head and turned to the robodriver. “Okay, drive on.” Kirk was in a hurry to be at Spock’s. He could think of a few things he’d rather be doing, all of them involving being with Spock in a state of undress.

-=-=-

Later, Kirk sated lay in Spock’s arms, his head resting on the firm chest, the fingers of their right hand intertwined. “I still don’t get it,” he sighed.

Spock seemed to understand to what he was referring. “Perhaps there is no answer, Jim. I cannot bring myself to feel concern over the matter. Whatever did or did not take place yesterday, the events brought us together. Our paths might never have otherwise crossed.”

Was Spock hinting at his own thoughts, he wondered. The sense of destiny, the strange images they had both experienced of an ancient time on Vulcan, in which they had appeared as bondmates. T’hy’la. He even knew the word for it, without knowing how he knew.

Kirk kissed the bare chest beneath his cheek. “ Yeah, maybe meeting now, like this, was our destiny,” he echoed his thought aloud.

-=-=-

In China, there is an ancient legend about two young men whose love was so pure, it transcended everything. But their love was forbidden and when it was discovered, one was seized and killed, while the other was spared to exist in a living purgatory, filled with pain and remorse, a life of the undead. When it came to his time to leave the earthly plane, he gave up the body, but remained forever undead. One day a year, so the legend goes, he takes on a corporeal form and has the power to manifest destiny.

-=-=-

The ancient man rubs his hands together in glee. A disturbance in time itself had resulted in the two men, upon whom he’d given his focus this year, following very different paths than was ordained for them. The disturbance had caused them to meet far earlier in their life than they should have, their individual histories shaping them in such a way it was unlikely they would have fulfilled their personal destinies together. He had therefore put himself in a position where it would require courage and determination from them both to take the first step that would take them back on track to their true destiny. They had taken that step together, their actions ensuring the friendships the alien had formed with the woman, and the human had formed with the doctor, would now remain platonic. Fortune favors the brave. All is as it should be.

[finis]

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this prompt in LiveJournal, for cards_slash's fic exchange: Spock goes to a costume party dressed as a Vulcan of the pre-Awakening (pre-Surak) period.


End file.
